Bound to Her Desert Captor

‘I take it you’re close.’

‘Very.’

The soft conviction in her voice jolted something loose inside his chest. He had once been that close to his own siblings. Then his father had died in a light-aircraft crash that had made him King. There hadn’t been time for closeness after that. There hadn’t been room for it.

‘What do you know about what your brother has been up to lately?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Really?’ He watched the flush of guilt rise along her neck with satisfaction.

‘I don’t,’ she said, shifting from one foot to the other, her eyes flashing fire and brimstone at him as she fought her desire to defy him. He would have been amused if he didn’t find her audacity so invigorating. So arousing.

‘I mean, I know that he was enjoying work, that he liked to explore the countryside on weekends, that he had just bought a new toaster oven he was particularly proud of, and that he had a new assistant.’

‘A new assistant?’

‘Yes. Look, I’m not answering any more of your questions until you answer mine.’ She planted her hands on her hips, inadvertently widening the neck of her robe. ‘Why are you so interested in my brother?’

Dragging his gaze up from her shadowy cleavage, he savagely tamped down on his persistent libido. ‘He has something of mine.’ His jaw clenched as he wondered how Milena was. Whether she was okay, or if she was in trouble. If she needed him.

‘He stole from you?’

The shock in her voice pulled his mouth into a grim slash. ‘You could say that.’

* * *

Regan noted the subtle shift in his muscles when he answered her, the coiled tension that clenched his jaw and his fists at the same time. Again she thought of a mountain lion ready to spring. Whatever her brother had taken it was important to this man. And that, at least, explained his interest in Chad. But, while her brother had gone through a couple of rough years after their parents died, he wasn’t a bad person. He was smart, much smarter than her, which was why she had worked so hard to make sure he finished high school, finally fulfilling his potential with a university degree in AI at the top of his class. An achievement that had brought him to this country that was, from the little she had seen, both untamed and beautiful.

Much like the stranger in front of her who left her breathless whenever he trained his blue gaze on her as if he was trying to see inside her. Possibly she hated that most of all; the way her body responded to his with just a look.

He was watching her now and it took all her concentration to ignore the sensations spiralling through her. If he hadn’t touched her before, grabbed her and held her hard against him it might have been easier.

Regan’s nipples tightened at the memory of his arm brushing over her. He was built like a rock, all hard dips and plains that had been a perfect foil for her own curves. And she was in a hotel room alone with him. A man who outweighed her by about a hundred pounds.

‘It wasn’t Chad,’ she said fiercely, forcing her mind back on track.

‘It was.’

‘My brother isn’t a thief,’ she said with conviction. ‘You’ve made a mistake.’

‘I don’t have the luxury of making mistakes in my line of work. Which I have to get back to. Where’s your phone?’

‘Why do you want my phone?’

Thick black lashes narrowed so that the blue of his eyes was almost completely concealed. ‘I’ve humoured you enough, Miss James. Where is it?’

He uncoiled from the sofa, all latent, angry male energy, and she instinctively stepped back. He noticed, causing her temper to override her anxiety. ‘First tell me who you are. You owe me at least that for scaring the life out of me before.’

‘Actually I don’t owe you anything, America.’ His gaze travelled over her with blatant male appraisal. ‘I am the King of Santara, Sheikh Jaeger Salim al-Hadrid.’

‘The King?’ Regan clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. The man might have an expensive-looking haircut, now that she could see it without the headdress he’d worn earlier, but with his dark clothing and scuffed boots he looked more like a mercenary than a king. And then another thought struck. Had he been hired to kill Chad? Did he think she would inadvertently lead him to her brother? ‘I doubt that. Who are you really?’

She saw instantly that laughing at this man was the wrong thing to do. His blue gaze pinned her to the spot, his body going hunting-still. ‘I am the King,’ he said coldly, taking a step towards her.

‘Okay, okay.’ Regan held her hand out to ward him off. ‘I believe you.’ She didn’t but he didn’t need to know that. As long as he left—and soon—that was all she needed him to do.

She forced her brain to forget about the perfect symmetry of his face and start thinking more about surviving. He was clearly a madman—or a potential killer—and she was alone with him in her room.